There's a place for us all
by Blizzen
Summary: Grantaire hasn't been seen for three days when they decide to go looking for him.
1. Sometimes

Sometimes, Grantaire isn't sure if it's worth all the pain and all of the suffering. And yet, how could it not be worth it? How could he ever say that he wasn't content (and sometimes even happy) with the way things are? Because he is, he truly is content. But sometimes, sometimes he wishes things were different. Just a little bit. A tiny bit would be more than enough.

But he's not going to tell that to anyone, why should he do it? They wouldn't care anyway so there was no use in telling them. It's not as if they were supposed to be his friends or anything, not at all. He knew what they all thought of him, what they all said behind his back. And though it hurt to know that they barely even liked him, he was still glad that he had them.

So when it was Courfeyrac who got so angry that he yelled at him, telling him to leave them alone, well, then he was just a little bit surprised and a lot more hurt than most times.

Usually it was Enjolras who did that, who lost it long before anyone else even had started to become the slightest bit irritated with him. But this time, this time it was Courfeyrac who did it. And perhaps that was why it hurt far more than if it would have been Enjolras. Enjolras losing it over him and yelling at him to get the fuck out already he's used to. But Courfeyrac had never done that before, he rarely even raised his voice at anyone. And yet, now he had.

In the stunned silence that followed Courfeyracs harsh words, Grantaire calmly rose from his chair at the back of the room, grabbed his bottle, and walked out the door. The door closed silently behind him.

"Shit" Courfeyrac sighed, looking as if all the breath had left his body. In mere seconds the room was in uproar**, **everybody interrupting each other all atonce.

"Why did you do that?"

"**WHAT THE FUCK?!"**

"_He has to take that every day from Enjolras, but you?"_

"_**That was fucking low, man."**_

The few who didn't raise their voices sat silently glancing between everyone and the door, wondering if someone perhaps should go after Grantaire and make sure that he's alright. But no one rose to the challenge of facing the drunkard after what had just happened.

"I didn't fucking mean to!" Courfeyrac yelled, interrupting everyone and sinking back into his seat. "I didn't mean to. I don't want him gone." And he really didn't, Grantaire was his friend and he liked him, but sometimes liking someone isn't enough. Sometimes the water just boils over and you take your anger out on whoever is the easiest to do it on.

"Courfeyrac" a gentle voice said, "perhaps you shouldn't have said that to him."

"Of course he shouldn't fucking have said that, Jehan. He had no fucking right to do that to him. Have you no idea how he actually fucking feels about things like this? Do you?" Bahorel said, glaring at the two he addressed.

"I told you, I didn't mean to say that." Courfeyrac tried. "I just lost my-"

"You just lost your fucking temper? That's not good enough. For fucks sake, he thought you were friends."

"He is my friend! It's just that he made me so angry! And I overreacted, and I'm sorry, okay?" he pleaded, "I didn't mean anything by it."

"And how the fuck is he supposed to know that?" Bahorel bit back, stepping away once Feuilly was forced to grab a hold of him to keep him from potentially jumping Courfeyrac.

The uncomfortable silence that sounded after that didn't last for even a minute before Enjolras broke it.

"Why are you getting so angry about this? It's not like it's the first time this has happened. I've thrown him out many times, but you've never reacted like this when I've done it." Enjolras questioned.

"Yeah, but it's expected of you." Feuilly told him, Enjolras whipping around to face him, shock apparent on his face.

"Expected of me? What are you talking about?" he asks while cautiously looking around the room for signs on his friends' faces.

"Well, you've always done it and I guess Grantaire thought that the two of you aren't friends so he can handle it. But Courfeyrac has made it-"

"Pretty fucking clear!" Bahorel spat from behind Feuilly.

"Don't interrupt me, asshole." Feuilly said, shoving Bahorel backwards. "But yes, Courfeyrac has made it clear that he and Grantaire are friends, you however have not."

And silence once again surrounded the friends of the ABC.

Grantaire hasn't been seen for three days when they decide to go looking for him. Even Feuilly and Bahorel hadn't heard from him since the day Courfeyrac threw him out. The friends decided to split up and search for him in all the places they knew that Grantaire favoured.

None of them had expected Enjolras to be the one to find him, sitting on a bench in a park somewhere in the outskirts of the city.

"Grantaire!" Enjolras called, hurrying up to the bench before Grantaire could get a mind to leave. Grantaire looked up when he heard his name being called, and for just one moment he was glad that it was Enjolras who had come to find him. But that moment passed as soon as he saw Enjolras' face. A thundercloud created by Thor could not have looked more frightening.

"Shit" Grantaire said, wondering if it was possible for him to outrun Enjolras but realising that there was no way he could do that, not even on a good day. Enjolras was way fitter than he was, and having the lungs of a smoker wouldn't exactly help Grantaire. Not having lungs like him probably wouldn't have helped anyway. Having been athletic once, wouldn't help him at all now that he wasn't anymore.

Enjolras sat down beside him at the bench, letting out a tired sigh.

"Finally. We weren't sure where you'd gone. We've _all_ been worried about you." he said, looking straight at Grantaire for any signs of him being drunk, but he found none.

"_Really_? I thought you all wanted me gone." Grantaire answered, confusion evident in his voice.

"What? No!" Enjolras exclaimed, "Courfeyrac, he- he's just had a bit of a tough time lately, and he took it out on you. He didn't mean to do it and he's really sorry." A deep breath,

"And I'm sorry too, both for what he did and for what I've done to you. I didn't realise how it must have been for you."

Grantaire just looked at him in disbelief. Here Enjolras was, trying to convince him that he was sorry for the way he'd been treated by their friends, and on top of that, by Enjolras himself.

"I'm sorry, but are you expecting me to believe that?" he asked, his disbelief giving way to anger. Who was Enjolras to just come along and say that he's sorry? After all the things he'd said and done to Grantaire. How the fuck does he _dare_ to say it? "Because I don't."

"Believe what? The part about Courfeyrac being sorry? Because he really is sorry, he didn't m-"

"No, that part I can believe. The part about you being sorry all of a sudden, _ha_, no. That part I don't believe." And fuck, he's just ruining this isn't he? Why the fuck couldn't he just have accepted the apology and continued on his merry little way?

Enjolras just looked confusedly at him, "What do you mean? Of course I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you the way I've treated you." Grantaire just raised his eyebrows and began to rise up from the bench. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Away, I suppose." he sighed, reaching underneath the bench to pick up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

If there was one thing Grantaire didn't need, it was the look on Enjolras face when he said that. Anger he would have been fine with. It wouldn't exactly be something he would have been happy about, but at least he would have known how to handle that. But the look on Enjolras' face right now was something he didn't know how to handle.

"Don't look at me like that, asshole."

"I'm not-"

"Can we just stop pretending that any of you care about me?" Grantaire says, completely changing tactics. There was no way he'd get out of this otherwise. An Enjolras who is being calm and mostly collected wouldn't let him get out of it. That kind of Enjolras would just try to convince him that they hadn't meant anything by it. But an angry Enjolras might let him get out of it, simply so he won't need to look at him anymore. "Because you don't. And I get it, I really do. I don't like me either. So let's just stop pretending, okay?"

(And come on, it's not like he's lying anyway)

"Oh no, don't you fucking dare go for that, Grantaire. Don't you fucking _dare_!" and yeah, Enjolras wasn't as calm and strangely sorrowful anymore. Rising from the bench with anger so prominent that Grantaire even had to take a step back in shock.

And maybe it wasn't fun when Enjolras became like this, but at least Grantaire recognised him when this happened**. **And this, this he knew how to react to. Yeah, it might have been a bit low to drag everyone into this, but what else could he do.

"I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want. You're not the boss of me." he snaps back, "and you have no fucking right to tell me what I can do or not."

"When you say stuff like that about my friends I am." And if Enjolras sounded a bit defensive, well he didn't really expect anything else.

"And there we go again!"

"What now?" irritation**, **not exactly something new, nor unexpected.

"Nothing."

Enjolras huffs out an irritated laugh, "Nothing? That's bullshit, Grantaire."

"I said _nothing_! It's not worth it, Apollo." he answers, turning to walk away.

"Grantaire, wait!" and yep, that was definitely something that sounded like defeat in his voice, no matter how he tried to hide it.

"What?" Grantaire sighs, slowly turning back to Enjolras with hunched down shoulders.

"I really am sorry."

"It's fine. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Of course it matters. You're my friend, it _does_ matter, okay?" he says, a somewhat pleading note sneaking into his voice.

"Whatever. I'll see you when I see you." Grantaire replies and starts to walk away, this time with far more determination than before.

"Wait a bit, where exactly are you going?"

"Not sure. I planned to take the next bus out of town, and then just see where I end up."

"You're just gonna leave us?" an incredulous Enjolras asks.

"Well, none of you want me here anymore, so I don't really have a choice." he answers, once again slowing down and turning back to look at Enjolras, perhaps for the last time in a very long while.

"But we do want you here. I swear, I- we all want you here."

Grantaire just raises his eyebrows and starts to walk backwards, away from Enjolras and the bench, "You all show it in such a nice way. See ya."

"Before you go, can you just answer a question I have?"

He sighs and stops walking, "Sure, ask away."

"Why did you leave when he told you to, but never even once when I've told you to leave?"

Not the question Grantaire expected, not anywhere close, but at least it was something he could answer.

"I figured when it was just you who wanted me gone, I could stay and let the others convince you to let me. But now I've realised that you're not the only one to want me gone... so... Well, I thought it was best to leave and be done with it."

A soft _oh_ was all that was heard, and the sound of footsteps fading away in the distance.


	2. Drifting

Drifting around might seem like fun to some people. Exciting and all that shit. Being free, having no one to answer to, having _nothing_ to answer to. No responsibilities, no nothings. And yeah, perhaps it is freeing for a while, but sooner or later it's just going to feel just as constrictingandconfiding as everything else.

When that happens, what the hell are you supposed to do? To start drifting you need to let go of every single person you've ever known, every single thing you've ever owned. Because there's always a reason to drift, and if that reason helped with letting go before you drifted, well good for you. Drifting isn't easy, and letting go sure as hell isn't easy either. But to do the first you'll also have to do the latter, at least to some extent.

If you can't let go, then there's some trouble up ahead, missy.

* * *

Letting an alcoholic, because that's what he is, a full-blown alcoholic, (he wouldn't do anything to get his fix, but he'd do a lot) loose on a drifting trip isn't exactly the wisest thing to do. It's actually nowhere near wise. But it's not as if anything could have stopped him, he needed to get away. At least for some time, perhaps he'll be back before the month has ended, but he would have the option to keep getting lost in the masses.

They say that artists require solitude, and now solitude is what he's got.

And yeah, it was nice, for a while. But then he started to miss people, realising that there was so many things he needed other people to do for him. Getting home from the pub in one piece wasn't all that easy when there was no one who tried to keep him together.

But for how long do artists require their solitude? Solitude is just going to make Grantaire lonely, and lonely is something he's starting to realise that he can't handle on his own. Because really, you can be lonely without being alone. Surrounded by people and still feel just as lonely as before.

So, after weeks of being on his own Grantaire turns back home. And oh how he wishes that he'd have the guts to go through with it all, though he knows that it's not likely. Because really, who would want him back now when he'd already left?

And then he turns back around again, because he realised that his friends wouldn't welcome him back if he returned. So he continues to stay away for awhile, until the need to return to them is back again, and he wonders if it would be alright if he went back now. Would they accept him? Would it be too late for him to come back? And once again he wonders if they would even want him to come back.

So he continues to stay away, when suddenly the need to be with them again becomes far too great, and he actually returns. And when that happens, he starts to realise that all they ever wanted was to have him back.


End file.
